


In richer soil

by UNseated4TH



Category: One Piece
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Implied PTSD Symptoms, Robin POV, childhood loneliness, kind of character analysis, mild frobin hints, their relationship is so underrated, usopp and robin bond after water 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:48:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28771098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UNseated4TH/pseuds/UNseated4TH
Summary: Post Water 7/Enies Lobby |A garden grows on the deck of the Thousand Sunny, and Usopp and Robin contemplate what it means to be home.
Relationships: Mugiwara Kaizoku | Strawhat Pirates & Nico Robin, Nico Robin & Usopp
Comments: 7
Kudos: 32





	In richer soil

The soil is cool and malleable in Robin’s hands. Something in the air is lighter as the magnetic pull of Water 7 falls further into the distance. Empty beds of soil line Sunny's upper deck, not far from Nami's mikan trees, and Robin surveys the assortment of tools and seed packs laid out in front of her.

“They’re for gardening. I thought you might like to give it a go,” Franky had explained earlier that morning. “If you’re interested, of course.”

It wasn’t that she’d never been interested in gardening, Robin had realized in that moment. It was that she’d never allowed herself to indulge in the thought. The permission to nurture, to create… for her hands, that had backstabbed, maimed, and caused bloodshed, to be used in such a way…

“Something tells me you could have a knack for it, Nico Robin,” Franky had said. “I think it'll be good for you.”

While plenty knowledgeable in carpenting and mechanics, the cyborg had admitted that he himself knew nothing about gardening. He’d then disappeared off elsewhere to show Nami a few more of the ship’s features and they’d left it at that.

And now Robin sits here in front of an empty lot of soil, pondering the tools in front of her and wondering where to start. She picks up what appears to be a spading fork and begins to comb it over the top of the soil.

“Robin?”

A voice, hesitant and quieter than normal, sounds from the top of the staircase. It’s Usopp.

It’s been less than a day since they set sail from Water 7, and amongst the on-board festivities, the pair haven’t had a moment to reacquaint themselves.

While Nami had filled Robin in on the situation with Usopp during the week in Water 7 prior their departure, it hadn’t taken much to deduce that something had been going on the moment she’d seen the sniper’s masked disguise aboard the sea train. And now, there’s something apprehensive in Usopp’s composure. He’s been a little jumpy since returning to the ship, Robin’s noticed, like he’s not certain things are ‘right’ yet between himself and the others. Teetering on a knife’s edge between wanting things to return to a ‘normal’ he’s uncertain still exists, and acknowledging things will never go back to the way they were before, (and maybe that’s not a bad thing).

“Hello, Usopp,” she greets.

A vague surprise registers across his features, taken aback from hearing her call him by his name for the first time. He makes no remark, prioritizing whatever purpose he came up here for in the first place. “Uh, how are you?” he asks. “We haven’t talked since… well since everything went down with CP9. You went through I lot. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“It’s been an eventful couple of weeks, hasn’t it?” Robin says. “But I’m doing well now thanks to all of you.”

“Oh good good, that’s good to hear,” says Usopp. “This crew wouldn’t be complete without our incredible archeologist! The World Government picked the wrong people to mess with, that’s for sure.”

“Yes, I feel a lot more at ease now,” Robin admits with a soft smile. She then looks him in the eye, “If it weren’t for your actions up on that tower at Enies Lobby, I’d be in Impel Down right now. So thank you, Usopp. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

Usopp opens his mouth to reply. For a moment it seems as though he’s about to embody his usual bravado, but he catches himself before he’s able, tripping over a few started sentences. “I’ll pass your thanks on to Sogeking,” he ends up saying, with a needless bow.

Robin considers saying something about this. Why he insists on trying to persist with the ‘illusion’, she is unsure. However, she is certain that if she tries to address the situation in a direct manner the sniper will quickly format an excuse to scurry away, and she’s been enjoying his company. So instead she opens an arm and gestures to her would-be garden.

“Care to join me?” she offers.

The shift in Usopp’s energy is almost immediate. “Gardening?”

“Franky thought it would be a good idea,” Robin explains.

“I see… that is a good idea. He really thought of everything,” Usopp says. He wanders over and takes a seat beside her. “Have you done any gardening before?”

“I have to say that this is my first time,” Robin says. “How about you?”

“Have I?! I grew up gardening,” he replies, eyes now shining with his usual energy. “I watched my mum plant clivias once before she got too sick. I’d find random seeds and try to copy what she’d done, worked out the rest from there.”

“You’re quite self-taught,” Robin observes.

“Most of it was experimental,” Usopp admits, “I’d find some seeds, bury and water them, and wait to see what would happen. Planted stuff all over town to hone my skills. It was a bit of a problem, actually. But it helped teach me the basics. The townspeople weren’t too thrilled though.”

A hilarious image of a child Usopp causing havoc in his hometown by planting an array of large and wild flora in inconvenient places crosses Robin’s mind, and she finds withholding a laugh.

Usopp smiles along with her. “We’ll need to work the soil first. Looks like you’ve already gotten started.”

Robin picks up the spading fork she’s been using, and Usopp gives her tips on the best depths and angles with which to turn the soil.

“What kind of plants did you grow?” she asks. “In your garden back in your hometown.”

Usopp lines the various packets of seeds up in consideration. “Mostly vegetables,” he replies. “They were practical. That way I didn’t have to spend much on food. Sometimes I’d cook this vegetable stew, was a bit bland but it did the job,” he fiddles with a label on one of the packets. “It was tastier on the occasion I’d splurge on some meat at the market to add. Still nothing on what Sanji makes. Not that anyone else ever tried it, probably for the best,” he adds a laugh as though he hasn’t just said the saddest thing Robin’s heard this morning. “Anyway, what would you like to plant?”

Robin eyes him for a moment in quiet understanding. Usopp’s skill set when it comes to the mundane and domestic is the mosaic of a child who’s grown up surviving on trial and error, teaching himself the ins and outs of life in the absence of an adult, not because he’d necessarily wanted those skills, but because he’d _needed_ them; where Robin had learned to quietly and efficiently kill, Usopp had learned to grow and prepare his own food. Where she’d learned how to use and manipulate, he’d learned to make and mend his own clothing. Where she’d learned discretion, he’d come to crave any sort of attention that juxtaposed the empty house in which he’d grown up.

For all their differences they’ve both been outsiders looking in, yearning for nothing more than the seemingly unimaginable warmth and comfort of sitting and enjoying a meal cooked with love in the company of loved ones.

A sudden flow of memories causes a strange shift in Robin’s breath and for a moment it hurts to breathe. Maybe she’s not as numb as she once thought.

“Robin?” Usopp’s voice brings her back to the present. His hand is resting on her upper arm, she notices. It’s warm. Or maybe it’s just her who’s gone cold. “Are you alright?”

Robin is reminded of the sea train, of the sniper’s calming voice in a desperate situation.

She collects herself. “Yes,” she replies. “Why don’t we start with a flower?”

After a brief few moments of contemplation, they settle on a pack of lewisia seeds. Usopp advises her on the best depth for planting, as well as ideal distance between the seeds, and the right amount of watering. It should take a few days, but we’ll start seeing them sprout soon, Usopp tells her. We just need to keep taking care of them in the meantime, to make sure they can grow up healthily.

It’s a strange phenomena; now that she’s safe and no longer alone, it’s as though the particular survival instinct that’s driven her forward for the last twenty years, filtering out and compartmentalizing all the horrible things that have happened has weakened.

And it’s odd because she’s happier than she’s ever been, but her nightmares have never been more frequent nor vivid and she finds herself remembering things when she doesn’t want to, tense or freezing up when there’s no danger, crying in private about things she thought she’d forgotten.

Robin doesn’t want to make a big deal about it, and she insists it really isn’t. Chopper assures her this is to be expected, especially so soon after what happened at Enies Lobby. He confirms things she already suspected, and offers her advice that helps her breathe during those times when her chest feels so tight she might suffocate. He hugs her and tells her how much they all love her, how glad he is that she came back to the crew, how they’ll never let anyone take her away again.

Robin is not public with her struggles, but the rest of the crew understand and help in any way they can. Nami stays up with her after every nightmare. They talk. I have nightmares of the past sometimes too, Nami tells her. They’re never really completely gone, but they become less frequent.

Sanji, who rises early to make breakfast, always has a coffee and a glass of water ready and waiting for when she gets up shortly after him. Keep your fluids up, he advises, and assures that her meals are always of the highest nutritional value. Don’t have caffeine before you go to bed.

Luffy understands more than he lets on. He sits with her, quiet when he’s not on the figurehead, back to back while she reads a book. Other times he’ll be talkative. He’ll ask what she’s reading (even if he’s not interested), he’ll even go as far as offering her some of his dinner (unnecessary as she’s always content with her portion, but the significance of the offer is not lost on her).

Zoro’s never far away. He sits and he watches the empty ocean, as though daring an enemy to try and take their nakama from them again, but he says very little. Sometimes, he’ll offer to get her a tea while he gets himself a beer. She knows there’s no danger, but his presence reassures.

Franky gets it. He’s been with them the shortest amount of time, but he always knows what to say. He never judges. He understands her and she understands him, and Robin finds herself frequently visiting him in his workshop and spending time with him about the ship.

Usopp gardens with her.

They fall into a daily routine, and as Robin’s nightmares lessen in intensity and her body loses some of the tension she’s been carrying from the CP9 incident, she exhales and allows herself to breathe. The fragrance of the first bloom of the lewisias establishes a new memory.

There is something powerful in the permission to create rather than the expectation to destroy, Robin realises.

“It’s coming along really well!” Usopp recounts his and Franky’s latest project after Robin promts him. “I had the idea drawn up as a blueprint for ages but I was never sure of how to go about constructing it. Then when Franky saw it he was really impressed, and knew all kinds of techniques to make it happen.”

He’s taken to spending a lot of his time with the shipwright, and Robin thinks it’s starting to show. While Franky’s presence in his life won’t make up for lost time, the results are speaking for themselves.

She locks eyes with Franky from across the deck, and they share a smile as Usopp explains the solutions Franky’s come up with for his blueprint problem. 

“That’s wonderful, Usopp,” she tells him. She hardly understands whatever he’s been talking about, but she’s never seen him speak with such honest confidence.

Usopp smiles. “I’ve noticed you started using everyone’s names, by the way,” he says. “You kind of had me there for a while,” he adds with a laugh, “I almost thought you couldn’t remember any of our names and were too afraid to ask.”

Robin laughs softly with him. It’s strange but refreshing to no longer hold them all at arm’s length.

“That was a joke by the way,” Usopp adds quickly. “You had your reasons for not using them, I understand that. Seems like those reasons are gone now though?”

“They are,” she confirms.

Robin watches the way he carefully reaches into the pot of the banksia sapling they purchased at the last island, and retrieves the shrub. He then deposits it into the hollow they’ve dug for it, and together they fill in the surrounding soil.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone else with your name,” Robin admits as she begins smoothing the surface soil. “It mustn’t be very common.”

“My mum named me,” Usopp says, “after my father, Yasopp.”

“Of the Red-Hair Pirates,” Robin notes.

“That’s the one,” Usopp says. “I don’t remember a lot about him. I think I only have one memory, and I’m not even sure if it’s a real memory or just a thought or dream I’ve mistaken for one.”

“I see,” Robin says. She has a few of those of her own.

They water the banksia. It’ll need a fair bit of water for the first few days, Usopp had said earlier. So that its roots can be firmly re-established and grow in the new soil. They then stand back and admire their handiwork.

Usopp relaxes next to her. Some of the tension he’s been carrying the past several weeks is also dissipating, bit by bit. He notices her looking and his eyes ask a silent question. Robin can’t help but think again of that night a few weeks earlier aboard the sea train.

_“It’s okay, Robin. You’re going to be okay. There’s still something you’re hiding, isn’t there?”_

How she hadn’t had anyone try to comfort her in twenty years, how she had forgotten the warmth such words could bring, forgotten it was even possible to be comforted in such a way.

_“But when it comes to pirates, you can’t leave a crew without the captain’s permission. So you should have faith in Luffy!”_

How he’d fought for her to rejoin a crew of which he himself had no longer been a part, for her to return to a family he could no longer claim as his own. How he’d cut himself off from the people who cared about him in indirect result of his lonely childhood, and was fighting to protect her from doing the same.

He’s a strange case, Robin observes; he can be comforting where one would expect he be terrified, intuitive where one would expect he be dense, headstrong where one would expect he be hesitant. He’s a mess of contradictions packed into a scrawny teenage boy overlooked by many, including himself. Including Robin, once upon a time. A sense of self-preservation only interrupted by the drive to protect others, like he’s afraid of losing them all, like he’s afraid of anyone being alone again.

“Mum loved dad,” Usopp explains, as though aware of her thoughts, “and dad loved the sea.”

He doesn’t say it like it’s a bad thing, but like an indifferent condition of the universe, neither good nor bad. In the same way the sun rises and sets, in the same way animals hunt to survive, in the same way the ocean does the moon’s bidding. When it comes down to it, Usopp had a father who couldn’t shoulder the burden of a family, and a mother who may have meant well but could neither nurture the life they’d created by herself, nor to plan a path for her son after her passing. Their problems hadn’t gone away, but instead had been passed on to and shouldered by their child.

Who perhaps isn't ready to face that all just yet.

Usopp stands close and peers up at her, as though asking something he doesn’t know how to put into words.

Robin opens her arms to him, giving him permission to draw in. There’s something desperate in his embrace when he hugs back, a quiet longing for something no longer there, or something that was perhaps never there in the first place.

 _I’m not going to let you down_ , she wants her embrace to tell him.

She rests her chin atop his head and breathes in the fragrant lewisias. She’s never had a garden before, but here on the deck of the Thousand Sunny, she can’t think of a more perfect place for it to flourish.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, you can find me on twitter at @usoapp_


End file.
